"The people don't quite look like savages," said Sam.
"You can't judge of them by these," said Foster. "Wait till you meet
some negritos in the country."
"How large a part of the population are they?" said Sam.
"About one-fortieth, I think, but where principle is involved you can't
go by numbers."
"Of course not," was Sam's reply. "What building is that," he added,
"with our flag over it and the nicely dressed young women in the
windows?"
"That?" said Foster, laughing; "oh, that's the Young Ladies' Home. We
have to license the place. It's the only way to keep the army in
condition. Why, we've got about fifty per cent infected now."
"Really?" cried Sam. "How our poor fellows are called upon to suffer
for these ungrateful Cubapinos! Still they can feel that they are
suffering for their country, too. That's a consolation."
"There's more consolation than that," said Foster, "for we're spreading
the thing like wildfire among the natives. We'll come out ahead."
"I wish, tho, that they wouldn't fly Old Gory over the house,"
said Sam.
"There was some talk of taking it down, but you see it's the policy of
the Administration never to haul down the flag when it has once been
raised. It presents rather a problem, you see."
"It may wear out in time," said Sam, "altho it looks painfully new.
What will they do then?"
"I confess I don't know," said Foster.
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